


The Sweet Taste of Your Lips

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - High School, Baking, Boys Kissing, Cake, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mating Rituals, Mutual Pining, Omega Stiles, Omega Stiles Stilinski, One Shot, Pining, Pining Derek, Pining Derek Hale, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Short One Shot, Young Derek, Young Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles isn’t the best cook, but he tries his best, hoping to win the heart of a certain alpha.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 28
Kudos: 815





	The Sweet Taste of Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sisforsterek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisforsterek/gifts).



The baking trays and metal pans were stacked in the cupboard, tentatively balanced on top of each other and seconds from falling. Stiles eyed the pile, looking for the cake tin.

He tried to pry it out from under the others, but it didn’t work. The pans and trays came crashing down with a deafening clash. A few fell out of the cupboard and bounced across the kitchen floor.

Stiles set the cake tin up on the counter and began to stack the trays and pans up in the cupboard again.

There was a rumble of footsteps as his father raced downstairs and sprinted into the kitchen.

Stiles slowly stood up, flashing a smile of feigned innocence as his dad’s panicked face appeared in the doorway.

“Are you alright?” his dad asked, looking him up and down. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. The trays fell out of the cupboard,” Stiles explained.

The Sheriff let out a sigh of relief, nodding as he slowly turned to leave. He paused, his weary, wrinkled brow furrowing for a moment as he turned back to Stiles and actually took in the sight of his son.

Stiles stood by the oven, dressed in a pale blue apron with colourful cupcakes printed over it. There were stacks of packets and ingredients scattered across the counter in front of him – flour, sugar, eggs, butter, baking powder and vanilla.

“What are you doing?” the Sheriff asked hesitantly.

“Baking a cake,” Stiles replied innocently, wincing as the baking trays slid about and crashed together with a loud bang.

“What for?”

Stiles dropped his gaze, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.

“Ah,” the Sheriff said quietly, piecing it together. “Mating Week.”

Stiles had been dreading this week. He’d been tense, anxious – scared, even. He’d been trying to think up different ways to impress the alpha he had his heart set on. But he wasn’t strong, he wasn’t pretty, he wasn’t confident. He was quickly running out of ways to impress a mate.

“You don’t have to stress,” his dad said quietly, trying to reassure him. “It’ll work out one way or another.”

Stiles didn’t look up at his dad.

The Sheriff let out a measured sigh.

“I have to head off to work,” he said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles replied.

“Alright. See you later, kiddo.”

“Bye, Dad,” Stiles replied.

The Sheriff turned to leave but froze. He hesitated for a second before turning back to the kitchen and walking over to one of the cupboards. He pulled out the bright red fire extinguisher and set it on the counter, leaving without another word.

“I’m not _that_ bad,” Stiles shouted after him, offended.

The sound of his father’s laughter drifted through the house as he left, shutting the door behind himself.

The school was abuzz with chatter; students gathered in the halls, talking amongst themselves as some found their mates and others were rejected.

Derek looked around the halls, his eyes searching the sea of faces, looking for one.

He stepped outside, burying his hands in the pocket of his worn leather jacket as he began to walk around the school grounds.

He found Stiles sitting on a bench around the back of the school, hidden away from everyone. An old Tupperware box rested in his lap. His dark brown eyes stared into oblivion, darkened with thoughts and glistening as he blinked away the waves of tears that welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Derek said softly, stepping over to his side.

“Hey,” Stiles replied without looking up.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, sitting down next to Stiles.

“Nothing,” Stiles said quietly, staring down at the battered, old container in his hands.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, getting the teen’s attention. “I’ve known you long enough to know something’s wrong.”

Stiles bowed his head.

“Whatever it is you can tell me,” Derek encouraged.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh.

“There’s… There’s someone I’m trying to impress,” Stiles admitted.

“Oh,” Derek muttered, trying to hide the pang of pain in his chest.

“But I don’t stand a chance. There’s any way they would ever want me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m skinny, defenceless, and weak,” Stiles said quietly. “I’m anxious, sarcastic, and I can’t cook to save my life. I thought if I just _tried_ then maybe something would work out. But I failed. No one would ever want me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Derek said softly. “Can I have a taste?”

Stiles shrugged, pulling off the old blue lid and holding out the container to Derek.

The cake inside was sunken in the middle and the edges were slightly overcooked and brown. It didn’t look appetising, but it didn’t look inedible.

Derek reached into the container, pulled off a bit of the cake and into it. He coughed slightly, pursing his lips as he tried not to spit it out. He swallowed hard.

“It’s—” His raspy voice broke off as he coughed to clear his throat.

“It’s terrible,” Stiles ventured.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Derek said. “A little dry, maybe, but not that bad.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings,” Stiles told him. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his head back against the rough brick wall and staring into oblivion. His blurred, dissolving into streaks of colour and light as he fought back tears, his voice quiet as he muttered, “How am I ever going to find a mate?”

“Maybe you need to find a mate who likes cooking,” Derek suggested.

“An alpha who likes to cook?” Stiles reiterated.

It seemed absurd; omegas were meant to be the domestic ones.

Derek shrugged slightly. “It’s feasible. I mean, I like to cook.”

Stiles blinked in surprise. He turned to look at Derek. “You do?”

“Yeah. I…” His voice trailed off as he looked away.

“You what?” Stiles asked.

“It’s stupid,” Derek said dismissively.

“Tell me anyway,” Stiles said, almost pleadingly.

“I’ve always wanted to find someone I can cook for,” Derek admitted. “I’d love nothing more than to make dinner and sit down and eat with the one I love.”

“That sounds nice,” Stiles said, his chest aching slightly as he tried to imagine what it would be like.

They settled into a moment of silence.

Stiles turned to look at Derek. “Have you asked anyone yet?”

“No,” Derek replied.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah,” Derek admitted. “But they like someone else.”

Stiles perked up slightly, sitting upright. “Who?”

Derek turned to look at Stiles, a hint of pain in his eyes as he confessed, “You.”

Stiles’ eyes flew open wide.

“What?” he muttered, stunned.

“I’ve felt this way about you for a long time, but I was always too scared to say anything in case I scared you away or ruined our friendship,” Derek explained. He bowed his head, looking down at his hands. “You’re like a puzzle piece; without you, nothing makes sense—I feel incomplete. But when you’re with me… I can’t explain it. It just—”

“It just feels right,” Stiles finished.

Derek looked up, meeting his gaze and losing himself in the golden depths as they caught the light. The faintest hint of a smile turned up the corner of Stiles’ lips.

Derek reached out, cupping Stiles cheek as he brought their lips together in a tentative, loving kiss.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted into the kiss.

Stiles’ lips were so soft, so warm – so perfect – that it almost pained Derek to break away.

He drew back slowly, lingering for a moment longer before pulling away completely.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sitting back. He dropped his gaze. “You were hoping for someone else.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Stiles admitted, his voice soft.

Derek looked at him, his brow furrowed with confusion. “But you said you were trying to impress someone.”

“I was trying to impress you,” Stiles admitted.

“Oh,” Derek said, quietly, a puzzled look passing over his face as he thought it through. Realisation washed over him, his eyes widening as he looked up at Stiles. His face lit up with a bright smile. “Wait. Does that mean…?”

“We’re mates?” Stiles finished, a hint of uncertainty making it seem like a question.

“I mean, if you want to be,” Derek proposed hesitantly.

“I do,” Stiles said. “Do you?”

“More than anything,” Derek admitted.

Stiles smiled sweetly. He leant forward, bringing his lips to Derek’s in a sweet, tender kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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